The Red Scarf
by FastIce
Summary: This is a story about families. More specifically, Mothers and Daughters. A few chapters exploring the relationships of the women of the Portal series.
1. Renstone

**No one seems to pick up on Caroline's scarf like they would in other fandoms, so I thought I'd give it a go. This'll be a couple of chapters focusing on the women of Portal and Portal 2.**

This is a story about women. More specifically, it's a story about mothers and daughters.

Or women who approximate mothers and daughters, anyway.

The first woman we're going to look at was Mrs. Renstone, a woman unremarkable in everything but her ability to wash her clothing really, really clean. Her daughter was the Persil child, white socks peeking out from under a pink frock which whipped in the wind as she pulled apart the flower, counting the stamens before scattering the petals into the wind.

"Caroline? Caroline! Inside!" the girl looked around before running into the house without question. Her mother sucked her teeth. "You've ruined your dress. I'd just pressed that." The girl looked up at her, defiant.

"I haven't!... Oh. I have, haven't I? I'm sorry, Mommy."

"Mother."

"What?"

"Pardon, darling, not what. I'm sorry, _Mother_."

"I'm sorry, Mother."

"That's better. Now come inside. It's time for singing practice."

"Yes, Mother." So Caroline followed her mother inside and stood next to the piano, correcting her posture. "All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small… all things bri-se and wonderful, the lord God made them all- Mommy? Sorry, Mother?" Her mother looked up from the piano, faintly amused but largely annoyed.

"What is it, darling?"

"Well, if the lord god made them all, why did he decide he didn't like half the designs?"

"What on earth are you on about?"

"Well, Charles Darwin says that all the animal changed into what they are now, so maybe God just didn't like the designs because he chang-"

"Caroline! For goodness sake, keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself!"

"But science says-"

"Caroline, will you stop all this science nonsense? Your job is to find a nice man – a lawyer, or a doctor, and keep a clean house and tidy children. It does not involve upsetting every single person in the community with your deranged rambling!"

"But-!"

"No buts. I think that's enough singing for today. Go to your room. I shall speak to your father when he gets home."

"Yes Mother. Sorry, Mother." And the girl sloped upstairs to her bedroom.

…

"You know," Caroline said, speaking over a shoulder, "it would work a whole lot better if that gear was better oiled." The man at the table turned around.

"What?" He said, not angry, but not amazed either.

"That's threatening rust. It won't turn otherwise." He looked closer, eyes narrowing. For a moment, she thought she'd overstepped the mark.

"You know what? You're right. What do you want to do about it?" His eyes bored into hers. She considered. She could walk away and shake her head, but then an old phrase, one her mother had never approved of, reared its head:

_Once you've dived off the cliff, the only thing left to do is push for the abolition of gravity._

Pulling up a napkin, Caroline began to sketch out a tiny mechanism. She rubbed bits out, considering as she changed bits. Finally, she looked up, satisfied in her knowledge of a job well done. "See, if you just connect this here and run the grease down a pipe – just a small one – then that's oiled and it'll run sweetly, just like you want it to! I love it when it all works out, don't – oh. I've upset you, haven't I? Sorry, sir."

"No, I'm not upset. That's… Jesus, woman, that's amazing." He picked up the napkin before planting a small card down on her table. "We're recruiting. Keep in touch."

Coins clinked onto the metal tabletop as he left, napking in hand. Caroline stared at her own coffee, studying the card.

_Cave Johnson_

_Aperture Fixtures_

"_Moving towards a better tomorrow"_

She tucked it into the side of her blouse – whatever he wanted had to be better than typing.

…

The dress was quite the whitest thing Caroline had ever worn, including the cotton socks of her childhood. The weather was lovely and the church was charming. Although neither of them were religious, Mrs Renstone had all but threatened to disown her daughter if the wedding wasn't carried out just so, and Caroline, who thought she'd seen the full extent of her mother's anger when she announced that she was now a scientist, was not willing to take the risk.

But despite her mother's anger, she'd still attended the ceremony, and found them a wedding gift; which she'd presented to her daughter alone earlier that day. Caroline tried to remember the odd, stiff exchange:

"I'm so glad you're finally settling down, Caroline. I must confess we'd all rather thought that you'd never marry."

"Mother!"

"Well I'm sorry darling, but people were beginning to gossip. And now here you are, and someone higher up than you too! I couldn't be more… proud."

"Cave's just my boss, Mother. He's hardly that much higher than me, you know."

"Sssh, Caroline. For goodness sakes, you should just be thankful that you've found someone. And I found you something. This is your wedding present." She pulled a box, wrapped in a square of red and white fabric, out of her bag and handed it to her daughter. "You can open it now." So Caroline opened it, laying the satin scarf down next to her, to find three crystal glasses, packed in together.

"Oh, Mom, _Mother_, you didn't have to! They're lovely, thank you." Her mother smiled briefly.

"The scarf is for you, too. It was my mother's, and she gave it to me on my wedding day. It still smells of her perfume, you know."

"I'm sure it does. Thank you, Mother."

**I'm sorry about the character of GLaDOS, she's impossible to write. Also, I think this chapter moved too fast, so I'm sorry I skipped almost all their relationship, but otherwise I'd have really mangled the characters. Opinions?**


	2. Johnson

**And here we go again. Many thanks to PheobeLeo35, because I was proper flattered.**

The train station was packed as Caroline ran up the steps, daughter in tow – literally.

"Bonnie! Come on, we'll miss our train!"

"But Mommy, my legs hurt so bad!" Caroline turned her head to look at the girl, who was three. Caroline wasn't short, but she wasn't anywhere even close to tall, and her legs weren't quite as long as was usual, a trait she had passed on to her daughter. So she swiftly tuned around, swooped down and balanced her daughter on her hip. Bonnie giggled. "Mommy!" You didn't have to pick me up! That's for _babies_." Caroline giggled then too, tickling her daughter's belly and holding her tightly so she didn't fall when she squirmed.

"Well, if you like, I can put you back down and you can walk."

"But my _legs_!"

"It's ok, I was joking. Now I'll have to run. You ready?"

"Yeah! Let's go!"

…

"BONNIE!" Caroline's voice rang around the house, furious and powerful. Bonnie, soundless as a shadow, crept down the stairs, trembling with her eyes wide.

"Yes, Mommy?" She said, her voice almost lost in her mother's glare.

"What's this?" Bonnie looked down at the floor, cheeks crimson.

"'t know, Mommy."

"I think you do. Don't lie to me Bonnie, I always know."

"Sorry, Mommy."

"So what's this?"

"It's one of your crystal glasses. I really _am_ sorry, _honest_, it just fell out the cupboard and I didn't catch it in time."

"Your Grandma gave me this on my wedding day." Caroline's voice was level now, fiercely calm as she struggled to stop herself exploding at her daughter.

"Dead Grandma? I…I didn't know! Look, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do with it and the glue didn't work and I got a splinter in my finger is there anything I can do?"

"You can stop lying, for a start. You shouldn't lie, it's one of the worst things in a person. Did you know people have died because of lies?"

"No. _Really_, though, what can I do?

"You can go to the kitchen and get two of the milk bottles off thecounter. Then take them outside and break them."

"Why?"

"If you'd carried on listening, I'd have told you. My father always said that things break in threes. So if you break the other two on purpose, it stops anything else breaking by accident. So go outside, and break them. Then after you've done that, you can go to your room and stay in there until I call you down. Understand?"

"Yes, Mommy."

…

"Mom. Mom. Please. You don't have to do it." Caroline looked at her daughter, who was now twenty seven. Her eyes – _Cave's eyes _, Caroline thought to herself – were pleading with her, begging her to just say no to whatever it was that the AI team wanted with her.

"I do. That's what your father wanted, and that's what I'll do. Is that clear?"

"He's dead, Mom. He can't control you anymore."

"He never did control me. _Never_."

"Well, maybe not then, but they can't just bung you into a machine! You'll be stuck as a robot forever and that's not O-"

"_Bonnie_." Caroline, who'd been looking at a form on her desk, turned now to her daughter, her voice forceful. "I know what I'm doing. They asked me first, you know. And I've said yes."

"But-!"

"It's not like they're _actually_ turning me into a machine. They're just making a copy of the key traits of my personality and putting them onto a disk. It's just like copying files."

"That's almost worse. You know I'm right about this." Caroline rolled her eyes.

"I know you think you are. But trust me, I'm okay with it. Really." Bonnie nodded, but sighed as well.

"I'm not giving up." She said, as she stood to leave. When the door had closed behind her, Caroline smiled, sighed, and shook her head.

"Silly things she gets into her head, sometimes." She said to herself before turning back to the form.

…

Bonnie was in tears, as was the proper response to a tragic accident. Her mother was dead, and all because some _idiot_ had forgotten to switch the Mapping machine's power dampener on.

"To my daughter Bonnie Johnson I leave the sum of ten thousand dollars, the green armchair and my jewellery box, plus contents". The lawyer droned on and on while Bonnie growled silently and the others around her fidgeted and sighed. _Caroline's dead. Never mind, I've wanted those plates forever._

When the reading was over and Bonnie got back to her apartment after the reading (and what seemed like an eternity) she found a cushion and screamed, louder than she ever had before.

…

The jewellery box's contents were interesting, Bonnie thought. There were some things she had never seen before – an embroidered brooch with an Asian cherry blossom pattern, a bangle with what she was only _mostly_ sure were paste rubies – and something she thought she had probably seen every day of her life since before she moved out, like Caroline's wedding ring, which was resting on her favourite red and white scarf. Bonnie knew the story, of course, and she put the scarf around her neck. Three perfumes curled around her nostrils, mingling into one very floral scent. Rising to her feet, she tied the ends and left the house, ready to finalise the court case she was leading against Aperture.

…

The case dragged on and on. It would have been fairly simple, had Caroline not in fact been in charge of the company before the accident. But now there was an extra element to the defence's case, and he was pushing it hard.

"The victim knew exactly what the dangers were and was ultimately in charge of any and all safety checks necessary. Her death is as much her fault as the defendant's." Bonnie felt her fists clench and she was lost in her own angry thoughts until she heard a shocked murmuring. Her lawyer turned to her.

"I think we've done it!" he said quietly, grinning as Bonnie looked at him, eyes wide.

"That's… great." She said, a little dazed. The lawyer's smile widened.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is" he said still breathless. The judge banged his gavel.

"Court adjourned."

…

"So… wait… Mom resigned as head of the company before the accident, so it wasn't her responsibility. What does that mean for us?"

"It means that the death was nothing less than manslaughter on the part of the defendant. That means that the case has definitely swung into our favour."

"So we're winning?"

"Basically. All we have to do tomorrow is show up and we'll win, or so I'm hoping."

"Great. Thanks, Tom."

…

Dr Richard Clarke sighed, ready to try and escape death for what seemed like the billionth time since the whole started. "Ok, Cathy, switch her on." Cathy nodded nervously before pulling the lever. What would have been GLaDOS's head, had she been human, rose off the floor before looking straight at them. Specifically, the scarf in Clarke's hand, given to him just minutes ago foran extremely large sum of money.

"Who does that belong to?" GLaDOS said, her voice dripping with a false sweetness. Cathy and Richard looked at each other, their faces drained.

"It's… Mine!" Cathy said, knowing that she couldn't have sounded more like a liar of she was proclaiming that the sky was green. GLaDOS drew back, looking from one to the other.

"Is that… blood, I'm detecting?

"No. No. Not at all. Not blood in the slightest." GLaDOS was still looking from one to the other.

"So my daughter is broken." She looked again from Richard to Cathy. "One… two. One, two... three. You shouldn't lie. Did you know people have died because of lies?"

The scarf fluttered to the floor as the green gas filled the room.

**That might just be the worst chapter I have ever written. Still, I thought fairly necessary to bridge the gap. So in the next chapter we'll be seeing more familiar characters, which I'm sure you're all glad of. (Notice that I didn't make the tired joke there.) Just two more chapters after this one too, so hopefully I'll finish this thing!**


	3. REDACTED

The fog once again filled the enrichment centre, as parents struggled to calm their gulping, crying children. Laura's mother was clicking a small, pink hair clip between her fingers. Her face was white and her daughter dead on the floor. All around, the air was filled with sobs and screams of pain, the smell of burning flesh and horrible death rattles.

Chell sat in the corner, eyes shut, the hastily fitted gas mask sweaty around her nose and mouth, slipping off. Her hands snaked up, still covered by her too big gloves and she held it to her face, putting the scrap of cloth she has been fumbling with into her pocket. She was scared, alone, and all she could smell was rubble, and the sickly scent of lilies from the neurotoxin (Although Chell didn't know it, the AI had spent months trying to synthesise the smell to match the poison). She shivered, listening for the slow, measured footfalls that could only belong to her father, hugging her knees tighter with each passing, strideless minute. The noises were fewer now, with most of the girls too unconscious to scream as their lives seeped out of their craniums. Still, no one came for Chell. Risking quick, painful peep through squinted eyes, all she saw was a thinning green fug with the occasional spasming silhouette for variation. There was no-one to be seen. Panicking through the too big mask strapped to her face, she got to her feet and held out an arm, groping through the air trying desperately not to fall over. She took a sharp breath in as a hand clasped around her skinny ankles, manicured nail scrabbling at her skin, causing cuts which were itchy at first and then suddenly stung with the pain of a thousand needles shooting up into her leg all at once. Chell gasped through her mask, her eyes shooting open with the shock and instantly screaming. She shut them again, pain coursing through her head. There was only one thing left to do.

"DADDY!" She screamed, casting her head around and running through the fug. "DADDY!" She called again, frantic and still running. She ran on and on, with her leg threatening to kill her and her eyes streaming blood as she tried to find her father. She screamed as a strong arm (most definitely not belonging to her father) wrapped around her hips and she was balanced on a jolting back moving far faster than she ever could. They sprinted on and on through the enrichment centre, Chell's eyes red, sore and swimming with a horrible mixture of blood and saline. Eventually, they came to a stop in a final corridor next to a heavy door which her rescuer was studing with some kind of intense curiosity.

"Hmm… hmm… not this way… not _that_ way… so how does it work? Ah. Ah! Oh you are clever. One moment and I'll just – Oh my god." Chell's rescuer could finally see her face and now he was staring with more disgust and pity than had ever crossed a face before, or since. Chell, despite herself, began to sniffle. The man's fingers caught her under the chin as he pulled her face up to look at him. "Ok, this is going to hurt, so just be strong for me, ok? Do you have anything I can use as a blindfold for your eyes? The sunlight's going to blind you otherwise." Chell thought, before nodding silently; the screaming and panting had made her voice too hoarse for words. Pulling the scrap of fabric from the small pocket on her pinafore, she handed it wordlessly to the man, who looked at it questioningly.

"_This_? But where…?" Chell pointed back the way they had come, it had been tucked into a tiny crack in the wall of the chamber. "…Never mind. Here, turn around and I'll tie it to your head." Chell did as she was told, and when the door opened the sunlight streaming in hurt even through the folds of fabric. The strange man took her hand and led her, blind, through the cars before opening a door and strapping her into a seat, buckling it for her. She heard a door shut and then a different one open as he got into the other side and started the engine.

…

It wasn't until night fell that they got back into the denser part of the city where Chell lived. Now that the danger was gone, her eyes, still a little sore, were once again exposed. The scarf was now around her neck and covering her mouth, but not as the mask had done. It was hugging her face, protecting it from the biting cold of the snow outside, which snapped at her feet after she got out of the car. Although it must have been past midnight, all the lights in her house were on and, as the man knocked on the door, a sudden silence fell as if a large group of people had collectively just turned their heads hopefully. When the door was opened by Chell's mother there was pause before the day's third lot of sobbing began (this time from her mother) and she was pulled once again into protective arms.

"Doug! I can't… thank you! Come in, please!" But he just stood on the doorstep, staring at the snow on it.

"Helen… Nick… I couldn't stop him; he said he had to shut her down… I'm sorry." Chell felt her mother's shoulders droop as she nodded her head slowly and hugged her daughter all the tighter.

"I understand. Still, come in. We've been sat up watching the news all night. Horrific reports… Come on, you'll freeze." Doug was pulled in by Chell's mother who, with her six year old daughter still clinging to her, bustled around the hot drinks cabinet the way she always did when Chell came downstairs after a nightmare or Mrs. Ivey from next door came round with another black eye. The other visitors – women who didn't want to cry alone, men who would cry alone, later, but now came here for support, sons asking grief stricken parents about missing sisters all drifted closer to Doug Rattman, shivering on the sofa searching his pockets for medication and shaking his head sadly when the desperate spoke to him.

…

But enough of the awful scene in that house in November 1989. Almost ten years later, in the sweltering August of 1999, a large group of people, most of whom had been there in '89 - parents who had lost children, brothers who had lost sisters, Chell and Rattman all trekked across the large car park. Although the police had towed many of the cars out, the multi-storey had been left untouched and the concrete, already old at the time of the tragedy, was not aging well. Cracks and damp covered the walls and Chell shivered as she caught the eye of Tom, who had been Rachel's brother. He smiled, moving closer as they approached the door. He was tall, blonde, good looking, and Chell couldn't help but blush as he began to walk next to her.

"Are you alright?" He said, questioningly. Chell bit her lip, looking down.

"I'm… ok. I think. Mom had a fit though, said she didn't want me coming. Said it wasn't safe." She said, slightly bitterly. Tom nodded.

"It's not, really. But hey, you're sixteen, it's up to you really, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's what I said but she still wasn't happy about i-"

"Right, that's the door open!" Called Doug. Ok, we need to stick together and keep quiet, understand?" The team nodded. "No one is to wander off, the place is like a maze and it's changing all the time, is that clear? Right? Follow me." He turned his flashlight on, motioning the tight huddle to follow his. Faced with walkways and corridors, platforms and lifts (Rattman insisted that they took the stairs) the group shone torches, looking for skeletons of those they missed, ready to bury them. Yanni's wife gasped as she noticed a body in the corner and the entire company turned their bodies to stare at it. Eventually, someone stepped forward to pick it up while the rest of the group watched in trepidation. Their eyes followed as arms bent forward and all flinched as the bone foot scraped along the floor. Suddenly, there was a scream from behind them from Chell as the platform she and Tom were stood on rose higher than the others. Around them, panels containing younger people rose too, among swearing and screams. A synthesized, mechanised voice rang around them.

"_Hello and Welcome to the Enrichment Centre. You have been selected for further testing on suitability for testing. Will all those who have not been selected for testing please make use of the large pit which can be located next to you or take advantage of the deadly neurotoxin which is being pumped into the surrounding air right now. Aperture Science would like to thank you in advance for helping you not help us help us all."_ Chell, who had stopped listening at the word "neurotoxin" tied the scarf which had been stuffed in her bra around her eyes as the platform moved them to a room filled, she guessed, with desks (she found this out the hard way, by bumping her hip into them quite painfully.) Risking pulling the scarf down slightly, she saw a form in front of her with some form of what might have been a pen resting next to it. Looking at it distastefully, she didn't even bother to pick up the pen while all around her terrified hands sat down and answered the questions. "_Will the woman with the ugly haircut sit down and fill out the questionnaire that can be found on the desk in front of her?_" said that voice. Chell's blood ran cold, but in any case she took a step back, glaring defiantly at what she hoped was a security camera. She shuffled her feet, prepared to hold the gaze for hours if necessary – but it wasn't because after thirty seconds the whole room jolted off, farther along the path they'd already come and knocking Chell to the floor, where she hit her head and passed out.

…

"_Hello and once again, welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Centre. We hope your brief detention in the Relaxation vault has been a pleasant one. Your specimen has been processed and we are now ready to begin the test proper. Before we start however, keep in mind that although fun and learning are the primary goals of all Enrichment Centre activities serious injuries may occur. For your own safety and the safety of others, please refrain from-" _ there was static here and Chell began to wonder just how much trouble she really was in. The toilet and radio still worked (God, how she wished the radio was broken) but if the AI which seemed to be in charge of the place was glitching out, who knew what could happen? Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice which she now recognized as the same one which had informed her of her impending death nine and a bit years ago. Or was it ten and a bit, now? Eleven, even? Chell realised with a sudden sense of dread that she had no idea how long she'd been out or even if she was still in the same state, knowing as she did that the enrichment centre went on for miles underground. "_Stand back. The portal will open in 3. 2. 1." _A ring of what looked like flameappeared in the wall. Chell, finally remembering her last conscious ten minutes, put her hand to her neck. A few miles away, GLaDOS drifted her head towards the scrap of fabric she had taken back, now returned to her chamber.

Using one claw, she picked it up and dropped it into the incinerator.

**One more chapter to go! My goodness this one was long. So we're onto the actual game play now, where Mothers do not factor in so much (and they're already slipping out, this chapter wasn't so full of them but the last one will be short and utter fluff, I'm sure. ) So 'till next time, Bye!**


	4. v2 point 2

P- Body lay in the repair bay, her leg snapped in two.

"_It__was__your__own__fault,__you__know.__"_ Said GLaDOS, mentally scanning the contents of the various boxes which surrounded the gurney that the robot lay on. P-Body let out a series of sorry sounding blips as she tried to turn and watch the various moving parts of the room. GLaDOS tightened the straps. "_If__you__kept__still,__I__'__d__be__able__to__help__you__a__whole__lot__faster.__" _She said, as P-Body whirred in protest while what remained of the broken leg was wrenched out of the socket. She grumbled and lay flat as eventually, one of the storage cubes in the corner turned itself upside down and the repair claw attached to the ceiling began sifting through the spare parts which fell out of it. _"__I__really__must__get__this__room__more__organised,__"_ said GLaDOS, thoughtfully, _"__But,__then__again,__it__is__just__you.__You__could__repair__yourself,__given__enough__time.__I__'__m__only__doing__this__because__I__just__can__'__t__test__with__someone__like__Blue.__" _P-Body clicked in protest while GLaDOS began to build a prosthetic leg that looked nothing like the one which had been lost in the acid and even less like the one which was still currently attached to the robot. _"__This__will__do.__In__fact,__it__might__even__be__interesting__to__watch__you__struggle__along__with__one__leg__shorter__than__the__other.__Maybe__it__'__ll__make__my__results__more__valid.__" _And with that, P-Body was picked up bodily and dumped on the next elevator to come along. As the door whooshed open, she limped off to reunite with her much missed partner.

...

Atlas watched his friend desperately trying to stay on the hard light bridge, wobbling this way and that as the one leg which was touching the ground hopped in what was most definitely not a straight line. Once, she was almost overbalanced by the heavy gun which was attached to one hand and narrowly avoided toppling into the rancid river which flowed beneath them. Deciding that he could take it no more, Atlas turned tail through the portal he had just placed, marched along the light bridge, picked up his friend bodily, and promptly took her gun off of her.

"_Blue!__What__are__you__doing?__Stop__that!__" _Atlas, however, glared at the camera, crossed the bridge, shot the last four portals, stomped into the last part of the test containing the exit door, and promptly smashed his own gun repeatedly against the wall, amid shrieks from GLaDOS, until both robots exploded into a mess of panels and screws.

...

"_Well,__now__you__'__ve__finally__stirred__yourselves__back__into__your__pathetic__excuse__for__consciousness,__I__think__it__'__s__time__we__discussed__what__you__no__doubt__wanted__to__see__me__about.__"_ Atlas glared at his creator, who stared back, going through the code which ran through his head.

"_Fine.__If__that__'__s__how__you__feel,__I__suppose__we__are__better__off__without,__but__that__'__s__easily__solved.__" _Amid the pair's terrified and angry burbling, a door rotated open and something approximating a scream broke the noise. There was a pause. _"__Well.__That__'__s__one__problem__sorted,__at__any__rate.__" _Said GLaDOS, returning to her work, humming… something. Atlas wasn't sure what because he didn't possess the required programming for differentiating between tunes, but he remained angry and stayed exactly where he was. "_Oh.__Are__you__still__here?__Go__and__make__yourself__useful__before__I__talk__to__the__reassembly__machine.__"_

…

If P-Body had been human, she would have been crying. She would have been tired, burned, frightened and hungry – but as a robot, she knew that she would be just fine in the incinerator into which she had been so unceremoniously dropped, so all she felt was insane loneliness. Still, if she knew what crying was, she would have been willing to give it a try right now, just to see if it helped. But she didn't know, so testing protocol took over and all she could do was hope that this test would _not_require an Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device. Limping through the rough piles of garbage, her legs would keep getting stuck and the ten centimetre difference in length only made it so much harder as she became unbalanced and tried to hop across the terrain. If only there was something she could use to support herself… of course there was. She was in the incinerator, for god's sake, there had to be something! Of course, this was not what P-Body was thinking as she rummaged through the pile in front of her, but if the zeros and ones could be translated into something comprehensible, it wouldn't have been far removed.

She was in luck – a thin piece of forked pipe proved to be around the right length to use as a substitute leg.

CALIBRATING…

SWING FORWARD [RIGHT_LEG]

BEND 45 DEGREES [LEFT_ARM]

SWING FORWARD [LEFT_ARM]

STRAIGHTEN [LEFT _ARM]

LEAN FORWARD [WHOLE BODY]

JUMP FORWARD [WHOLE BODY]

REPEAT PROCESS

Awkwardly following the trodden down trail of decomposing waste and scrap metal, P-Body made her way up to where she was fairly sure there was a chute back up to the surface – back to Atlas, who she was certain was going to be suffering under GLaDOS. To her surprise, this particular chute was one of those with a slight slope, so, gripping on to the crutch, she began to climb. She got about three centimetres before falling backward and landing heavily on the floor. After running a quick systems check to make sure everything was still in good working order, she realised that one crutch was not going to be enough – this was going to require a fully functional pair of legs. Sifting through the heaps, she set to work.

…

GLaDOS was beginning to regret getting rid of Orange. Having exhausted all the stockpiled single tests, she had to create more before she could send anyone through them, and it was becoming clear that the humans, with their murderous tendencies, were incapable of completing the co-operative ones. Still, when the wretched thing finally did arrive, the state of her almost sent GLaDOS over the edge.

"Where are we now? Why did we come out the hot room? Why is she glaring at us? What's that? "

Ah, yes. The irritating chatter which signified that the dratted curiosity core had turned up again almost destroyed her happiness that the co-operative testing initiative could continue. Still, it was clear that some repairs would have to be made, because the robot still wasn't in a fit condition to test, made apparent by the fact that it seemed to be using the curiosity core as a foot and that the new longer leg appeared to be tied on. She even had to reboot the camera to make sure it wasn't just a glitch, but no, there it was, plain and simple. She was just getting ready to violently disassemble the two of them, even though they were inside a testing course, when one thing caught her eye which made her bring down a claw to pick them both up and carry them one more towards the repair bay. Carefully, she untied the barbequed scrap of fabric, still clinging (just) to its red and white colouring, and bought it back to her chamber, to the crevice where the central core joined onto the main body, where it belonged.

**So, I believe I promised a chapter full of fluff? Sorry guys. Oh well. And so the story concludes with minimum fuss. Until next time, bye!**


End file.
